


nothing's gonna touch you

by terriblesharp



Series: my aim is true [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (of the "talking over submissive's head like she's not a real person" variety), 1950s, Big Cocks, Choking on a Dick, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Exhibitionism, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Facials, Father/Daughter Incest, Golden Age Hollywood, Grooming, Humiliation kink, Implied/Referenced Extreme-Underage Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Rape Roleplay, Lap Sitting, Multi, Rough Lap Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Harassment, Spitroasting, Squirting, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage Sex, Verbal Humiliation, but at least the sex is protected!, crawling, creepy affection, demeaning praise, extremely unethical D/s practices, father loaning out daughter without prior notice, forced to repeat demeaning things, rationalization of extremely dubious consent, really working the line between subspace and dissociation here, slight dehumanization, slightly homosocial, so much grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terriblesharp/pseuds/terriblesharp
Relationships: Producer Father/Actress Daughter/Director In Charge Of Her Big Break
Series: my aim is true [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924693
Comments: 19
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't even as though there'd been a _first_ clue, really, that Lawrence Raynor could be a whole lot of dangerous to have as a director, if you weren't smart and lucky and very famous and ideally also married and older than thirty-five. Allison had heard the way actresses who weren't all those things said _his_ name, almost before she learned anything real about Daddy: some of the ones who'd cozy up to Daddy real nicely would talk about Lawrence Raynor like he had to be Svengali and Dracula all rolled up with some Jack the Ripper just for interest. 

She'd even had a little bit of a crush on him about that, when she was fourteen and he'd just finally come back to Holland-Regal to make _The Portrait of a Lady_ with Eleanor Gray and she didn't, truth be told, know shit about a goddamn thing; he'd stared right into her with those narrow grey-green eyes at the premiere and asked her all kinds of questions about what she thought of the eavesdropping scene, and then Daddy had whisked right along and bundled her away in her coat to take her home for nice-girl bedtime, all chaste. She'd ridden her hand about that stare a few times, after that: mad, bad, and dangerous to know, oh yes. 

So she might have thought it was strange, Daddy of all people letting that man direct her in her first real featured role -- Daddy letting her be part of _his_ next picture, might be the better way of putting it. Six of one, maybe. She might have thought so, only the thing was Lawrence Raynor made beautiful movies. Half of them didn't make any sense in the script -- _Come to Dust_ absolutely didn't so far, what with starting out a murder mystery and taking a mixed-up left turn into reincarnation halfway through -- and it never mattered much. Not when you knew about the way he made every single shot look like you must have seen it in a museum somewhere, and every single person look like they'd have to be an angel if only you didn't want to rip their clothes off quite so bad. 

Daddy screened some of his movies a _lot_ , when there wasn't anyone else over. Had done for years, and Allison figured that nowadays he might have a particular interest in seeing her shot like an angel he'd want to rip the clothes off of. He'd been making her suck him while he looked over the latest batch of rushes every single time she'd been on camera so far in the last ten months; in front of her first screen tests, even. It was _comforting_ , to know he'd given her big break over to a director he admired so much and not only one who'd make her look incredible; he could've put her on with a second-string director a lot easier than he could've made Lawrence happy about working with her if she weren't really any good. 

That nice uncomplicated pride lasted up until the third day of filming, when Lawrence awfully-casually crossed paths with her behind the makeup trailer and put his entire hand on her ass while she was still chatting away about the weather. Just like that, stretched out so that he could get his fingers up under half of it and his thumb riding into the split so firmly that she bucked a little, out of sheer reflex and shock, before she believed her own skin enough to say " _Hey_ ," sharply, and flinch out of his grip.

He grinned at her. Apart from the eyes, which she still had to admit were dreamy to a fault, she sometimes changed her mind six times in a single conversation about whether he was really great to look at or a little weasely; he was lean and not very tall and had one of those lines-and-angles faces that could _be_ both things six times depending on how the light changed and what he was saying. Regardless of which one was at the forefront, though, he had the kind of smile that almost hypnotized you into smiling back. Mostly because if you had it turned straight on you more than once in a month, you knew he wanted you responding to him. 

"Do we have a misunderstanding, Miss Clare?" he said, like ice wouldn't melt -- that clipped little deep-voiced accent that could be English or could be just _really_ Connecticut, she went back and forth about that too. Whether it was nicer to listen to than it was affected, mostly. Right then, affected was the word. 

"I hate bringing this up," she said -- she did, too, she'd sworn she wasn't going to unless there wasn't another choice, "but I'm sixteen, and you _remember_ who my father is, don't you?" 

She'd been expecting the smile to go away, not to deepen at the corners as though now they had the wickedest joke in common. "Oh, yes," he said, and patted her ass again, this time more like she was some animal he was pleased with but wanted to move along. "Yes, indeed."

So _that_ had her nice and jumpy for the rest of that day; she spent every minute on set convinced she was about to be a disaster, but lucky for her she'd gotten really good at covering over that when it was something about Daddy. Laughing all through her sweet sixteen party with his come leaking out of her for the very first time had been kind of a baptism by fire, that way. 

It nagged at her, though, enough to make her bring it up with Daddy himself that night. They'd done the part with the rushes, and then he'd put his hand in her panties and stroked her off scary-gently, three times right in a row without making her beg, while they talked about what she thought of the story so far; and now she was curled up in his lap in his favorite chair, the deep high-backed leather one in his study that would be more than wide enough for her to plant her knees on either side of his and ride him if he decided that's what he wanted her to do instead. 

How she felt about herself and Daddy, that was one more thing she went one way and another about -- proud and ashamed and hating them both in turn and despising everyone else in the world who couldn't be half the match for either of them -- but it always felt nice, like this. It was cozy, the kind of thing she'd always wanted more of when she was a little girl, even with his cock starting to stir again into the crease of her ass and thigh. She'd probably have taken that into the bargain just as readily, when she was really little, if he'd stroked her hair this way as well. 

"And another thing, by the way," she said, wiggling a little; she couldn't ever _exactly_ rub her cunt against his leg from this angle, not without entirely rearranging her own, but it was almost impossible not to try a little whether or not she really wanted it all to turn into fucking right that minute. "Your very favorite artist grab-assed me on my way to makeup this morning." 

She could hear him blink. "Lawrence did?" 

"Mm-hm." There was no way to see enough of his face clearly from this angle for her to guess how he looked; she settled for tucking her cheek back against his shoulder, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing start to hitch as his cock stiffened. "And I mean _grabbed_. Besides you I think the only man who ever tried to get that far in there was Doctor Matthews, and he was traveling for business. Everyone knows what he's _like_ , Daddy, but you should maybe tell him to be like it with someone else."

"I always thought you were very taken with Lawrence," Daddy said, running his hand down her back the way he did when he wanted it to be clear he wasn't out to trip her up on anything. That, she appreciated at a time like this. 

"Yeah, and I always thought you were bringing home your next wife, back in the _Dark_ Ages." She guessed that was going to make him swat her thigh, just lightly, even before she said it and he swatted; there wasn't any ruling out the possibility he'd take her bad manners out on her ass for real later, but he was coming across very indulgent and easygoing to her today and anyway he probably wouldn't, not when she had to be back on set tomorrow. Likely the swat was only to make her giggle and rub up against his cock. "A lot of things aren't how we thought, Daddy, was my point, and even if I _did_ have a crush on him that doesn't mean I'd want him cornering me all over the set. I hear compared to him _you_ don't mind no for an answer."

" _Really_." God, yes, there he was, almost ready to go; there _she_ was dripping and pulsing, gone from lackadaisical to needy just like that. Pavlov could've learned some things from her and Daddy. "I'll speak with him. And now, on the subject of answers --" 

"Here?" 

"Hmmm." He squeezed her thigh; kneaded it a little, like he really had to think. "No. In your old bedroom. Change into your nightgown and turn the lights out."

So they played _that_ game -- the one where Allison pretended to be sleeping with her face in the pillow until Daddy got her nightie up and her panties down and fucked her squealing and pleading into the mattress, the one where she nearly always started to come the moment after she got her hand down underneath herself and didn't stop for very long until he'd gone soft inside her and _his_ come was starting to slither out. It was saying a lot, to say _that_ game got to her harder than usual or made her feel more utterly filthy over it, except that on that night she'd barely even turned the light out before she started wondering whether it could ever be possible to ask Daddy whether someone else had an inkling about them. 

In any case by the end of the next day she was almost positive that no one did. Lawrence was positively gentlemanly and removed with her -- with everyone, actually -- and not in the overdone way she'd heard he could be, sometimes, when he was planning to really _get_ you. Day after that the same, with the nice little addition that he didn't need her for anything after four, so she could scurry home and get washed and changed for dinner with Mitch. Mitch was more or less her on-the-books boyfriend for the last three months or so, him being nineteen and gorgeous and a big deal in beach flicks and _beyond_ no way interested in sleeping with girls; he made nice relaxing company once they'd been sure to get seen canoodling in the booth before dinner arrived. He couldn't really talk about much besides cars and the beach, but at least you knew where you were with that, and he had _absolutely_ no idea about her -- he just figured that since Daddy's sixteen-year-old virgin princess had to get herself a boyfriend for the fan magazines, Daddy had killed another bird with that stone and drafted her to cover up how Mitch couldn't get hot for girls if you paid him a million dollars to let her suck him. 

She'd have tried that out any time if there were a chance in a hundred, just to see, but there really wasn't; anyway he had _his_ boyfriend practically living in at the moment, and she'd never figured herself for a homewrecker. (Apart from Daddy and Lindy, and Daddy and Sylvia back when she and Syl had all those fights, and she wondered if you could maybe say Daddy and Mother even though she'd been eight and he hadn't closed the deal until her sixteenth, but all that was different.) 

Aside from everything else that made Daddy approve of Mitch, he was reliable at getting her home on time; she was back at the house almost on the dot of ten-thirty. Daddy hadn't had a lot of staff living in even before her birthday, and he'd cut them back one at a time until he could move her into the bedroom that joined onto his; so the big house was quiet after dinnertime like always, and she went looking for him in the study like she usually did unless he'd said otherwise. 

He was there, all right, sitting loose-limbed in his chair the way he usually was; from the door she could see right away that someone had pulled up the second chair, the one that was pretty much identical but not, for whichever reason, his, but she had to get pretty close before she could really _believe_ her eyes that Lawrence was sitting in that one.

"Hi," she said a little uncertainly, swaying a tiny bit on her feet the way she sometimes caught herself doing when she was nervous. Daddy was probably just going to send her up to her room, she thought, from the calm way he smiled at her, but then he raised an eyebrow and patted the arm of his chair, the one that was closest to Lawrence's. 

"Come sit," he said, so she went and perched there. Lawrence smiled at her, the private-joke smile again only so wide she thought she could see a flicker of his tongue behind his teeth, and that was about when she got the first long wave of apprehension and uncertainty and her pulse starting to go a little up in her cunt -- the way it did now, sometimes, when Daddy might be about to have her in over her head. 

"Daddy," she said, trying not to sound like she was trying anything, "what's going on?" 

"First of all," Daddy said very calmly down the back of her neck, "I want to make it clear that you're not in any trouble."

"Okaaay." For some reason she looked at Lawrence out of the corner of her eye just exactly then -- he didn't exactly look at her like she _was_ in trouble, she thought, but he looked like he was taking the idea of it out for a few turns around the block. 

"Don't interrupt me -- as I gather you're aware, Lawrence's importance in this business as a director and as a good personal friend of mine traditionally entitles him to a certain amount of license with his female cast and crew. You were absolutely right to come home and tell me that he'd started trying to exercise that license with you on set and straight out of nowhere."

Lawrence clicked his tongue sharply against the roof of his mouth, the way he did when he acted like it was hilarious how nothing was going according to plan, and behind her she could hear Daddy rumble a little with fake-offense before saying, "Comments from the peanut gallery?" 

"Not at all," Lawrence said blandly. 

"When you have a daughter, Lawrie," Daddy said, "one whose mother lets you hear about it, you'll be free to spook _that_ one into letting every Tom, Dick, and Harry steal a lick of her behind your back because you can't abide a tattletale. Allison's a good girl who behaves just how I want her to. Don't hold it against her that you can't keep your hands to yourself for ten minutes."

That, anyway, made the back of Allison's neck prickle with confused, embarrassed pride, even when in return Lawrence held up his Scotch glass in a sarcastic little toast and murmured, "but, C.T., who could?" 

"You and the rest of that set, if you know what's good for you." Daddy cleared his throat. "Where the hell was I -- Allison, sweetheart, you were very right that Lawrence shouldn't have presumed the way he did, but I don't think you've taken into account how important this picture is going to be for you. We all know that you're doing wonderfully, I don't want you to think for a moment that you're not up to the task, but the fact is that you're a comparatively untried young girl and Lawrence agreed to hold aside an important role for you, over the heads of any number of actresses with more experience working on a film set, to help _you_ develop your career. As a favor, to the both of us. Aside from that incident the other day, are you happy with the part and with the way you're treated?"

"Yes, Daddy," she said. It was true, anyway. Lawrence was exacting as hell with her, just like he was with everyone, but he wasn't _rude_ aside from the incident; he didn't hurl around nasty names or raise his voice, at least not where she'd seen it, and he didn't even get cold and ironic at her specifically the way he could be when people weren't living up to the picture in his head. Another favor to Daddy, she guessed. 

"Good. I'm very glad to hear it." Daddy cleared his throat again; Allison kind of wished he wouldn't. She was getting a feeling anyway about where this was headed, and for how blunt Daddy could get when he wanted something, other times he was just smitten with the sound of his own voice. "Then as an expression of gratitude for this opportunity, we've agreed that it would be fair for you to offer Lawrence one chance to enjoy you for the night. Is this all right by you, Allison?" 

_Who's this we, Daddy_, she almost wanted to say, but that wasn't smart _or_ fair; she'd have said yes, she knew it, even if Daddy had let her decide herself whether to sign on with that being the deal. It wasn't like Lawrence was disgusting, not eighty or sweating onions or always chewing cigars like a few first-string directors she knew of, and it wasn't like he'd be _awful_ if he knew Daddy would hear about it -- what would she have done, shot him down and never worked with him ever? 

"Sure, Daddy," she said, a little less confident than she wanted to feel; he made a pleased sound and rubbed her back, slowly in a circle, with his broad hot hand over her date dress. She wondered if he'd planned it so she'd already be all dressed up. "What do you want me to do? Go with him upstairs?" 

"That _was_ the plan," Daddy said with the very barest emphasis; Lawrence was leaning forwards, now, watching her with his mouth a little parted, and he rolled his eyes at that. She wasn't sure if it was still a joke she was supposed to be sharing. "But since he did go and jump the gun like that the other day, I'm not as comfortable as I might be allowing him free rein with you behind a closed door. My thinking is, then, that he and I are going to stay right here, and right here you're going to take care of both of us. You're a big girl now. Think you can handle it?"

 _God_. In a hundred years she didn't think she would have actually imagined -- she wasn't sure if she wanted to faint right off the arm of his chair or grind up against it until _that_ idea started sounding more exciting than it did terrifying. Lawrence, still staring at her, huffed a little laugh in the back of his throat. "She's just gone from crimson to white and then back again at half speed," he reported, and he had one hand in his lap already, pressing the heel of it against his cock it looked like. "And the eyes are _black_ \-- I am eternally grateful, old man, for the opportunity. Believe me."

"I didn't ask you," Daddy said, but she could tell he was pleased. "Sweetheart?" 

"I can handle it, Daddy," she said. 

"You safe?" 

"Uh-uh." _God_ , she hadn't even thought about it -- bringing her diaphragm along for Mitch would've been a bit like bringing a life jacket out to the salt flats. At least _someone_ was thinking about it, before they got into the middle of things. 

"Go take care of that and hurry back. Don't change or anything like it." He held one hand up, before either of them could even blink. "You wait a few extra minutes or you don't get _near_ her cunt, Lawrie, that's not negotiable."

"Did I say a word," Lawrence said mildly. He looked Allison up and down, just x-raying her with his eyes, as she slid down to her feet; she was a little wobbly, landing on her kitten-heels with her knees not as firm as they could be, and he pulled in a sticky little breath. "When you come back, you'll go straight to the carpet in front of us and take that dress off. Don't waste any more time looking for instructions until you've done that."

It was fine, Allison thought, locked in the green powder room (the one where she _could_ do a damn thing without seeing herself in a mirror) for a moment or so more than it strictly took her to get herself squared away. It was fine; Daddy was there to look out for her as well as to get some for himself, and if she was brutal with herself she didn't really mind the idea of taking her dress off for Lawrence, did she? Not considering how red in the face and how wet she was already -- maybe she was even starting to get a kick out of it, there was something that went right through her remembering him pressing on his cock while she was sitting on the arm of Daddy's chair. People usually didn't tell her the gossip about _that_ kind of thing, not in so many words, she didn't have much feeling for how it might go, but --

"There you are," Daddy said, all warm and indulgent when she came back in the door; it probably meant Lawrence had been impatient when she was gone, Daddy didn't ordinarily have that much toleration for her dragging her feet. "Another minute longer and we'd have assumed you wanted to play hide and seek."

"There _is_ a thought," Lawrence murmured. 

"Wasn't where I thought I left it." She remembered anyway to go right onto the rug without looking towards either of them until she got there, in front of the fireplace Daddy never bothered with lighting other than at Christmas. "Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Mr. Raynor."

Her dress zipped down the back; on a hunch, thinking about what she knew Daddy liked, she turned around nice and slowly first so that they could see the zipper coming down, not her twisting her face into clown-shapes while she pulled at it. Not at all so she wouldn't have to look at them for another moment or so; she could anyway _feel_ them both staring holes in her back, and it was just an audience, wasn't it? An audience was what she was _for_ ; it was just that mostly Daddy was the only one she ever saw up close. 

When she had the dress puddled around her feet, and _God_ she felt bad even in the midst of it to be doing that to the silk, she turned back to face them. Nice and slowly again, since they hadn't said anything about her slip, and anyway she could take _that_ off without funny faces if they did want; and then it turned out that staring just wasn't the word. Daddy looked like he did when the only difference her being good might make was that maybe he wouldn't hold her all the way down on his cock until she started to full-on panic about breathing. Lawrence looked like… she didn't know what he looked like exactly, but for sure like the way people whose Daddy couldn't fire him got all low-voiced and vague when they talked about him. 

He was _horribly_ great to look at like that, she realized -- all the angles in his face went hard and definite, and it made his full expressive mouth turn outright _pretty_ and still mean as hell.

She couldn't stop her eyes from flicking to Daddy for instructions anyway -- just couldn't help it, with all her bones knowing that was a _bad_ way for him to look if she didn't make him happy right away -- and Lawrence sighed, loud enough to be almost a groan. Actually snapped his fingers at her, and she could feel herself about to get all numb and shaky with not knowing where to go first. 

"Sweetheart," Daddy said, so patiently she could feel herself start to blush again. "I want you to pay attention to your director now like a good girl. I'll bring you over to me when I need you."

"Thank you, Daddy," she said, the relief like something melting, and then she could look properly at Lawrence. The hand that wasn't in his lap was squeezing the arm of his chair, slow white-knuckle pulses, and the metronome timing made her feel all the way down to her spine that she'd better get right to making _him_ happy instead. "Where would you like me?" 

"Where would I like you, _sir_ ," he corrected her, his voice so measured out and heavy it was like a pile of cinderblocks crashing down, and that took care of _any_ temptation to laugh at the idea of calling someone that in bed. 

"I'm sorry," she said, fast, realizing she was going to have to be really perfect about remembering almost _before_ she nearly tripped up anyway. "Sir. Where would you like me, sir?" 

He made a pleased, wet little sound in his mouth and spread his legs apart, wide enough to make it obvious where she was supposed to end up. "Get down on your hands and knees and crawl over to me. I can see I'll have to make myself _very_ clear with you."

It was like trying to hold her hand on a hot stove, not looking to Daddy for confirmation about that, but she managed it, even if her crawling wasn't going to win any points for execution. 

"You don't bother with her form?" Lawrence said to Daddy, the second time she almost got her knees fouled up in her slip; she could tell he was talking to Daddy from how conversational and normal he sounded. It didn't only make her feel shameful and squirmy and hot inside -- like maybe Daddy had been _very_ bothered by her form and she'd been too stupid to realize or even to know what that meant -- but like she might be transparent somehow and both of them could _see_ the squirming, like maybe everyone could. 

"She's sixteen, she's mine, she gets wet when I look her in the eye," Daddy said peacefully. "Not even you could ask for more goddamn form than that. Why don't you save the dressage lessons for Ellie and let my little girl be sweet to you the way she does best."

 _Ellie_ , Allison realized with a weird hot-cold shock, just about had to be Eleanor Gray, who was top billed again in _Come to Dust_ \-- a couple people had been wondering whether or not there was something happening with her and Lawrence even though she was way older than he normally went for, and it _figured_ Allison would end up with a piece of news like this and no way to share how she learned it. She wondered a little if Eleanor would want to swap stories about him, ever. Eleanor could probably explain a lot of things. 

"Horses for courses," Lawrence said, still conversational, right _when_ Allison got exactly close enough for him to reach down and twist up a handful of her hair, sharply enough to make her eyes water. From the angle he was pulling she got the hint that he wanted her up on her knees that minute, and her posture probably even better than it was ordinarily; he stroked her hair in the same spot, no-kidding gently, when she did it just that way, so at least she could read him a little. "Better. Suck my cock. Make me like it."

"Okay, sir." _Good_ , she told herself, and at least she could practically get a man's belt and fly open blindfolded and in her sleep. "Do you mean, um. Should I make you come that way? Sir?" 

"Why not." He sounded almost pleased with her, that time, and she risked nuzzling in and mouthing at him through his shorts, sucking where it was a little wet, the way Daddy sometimes liked -- mostly to work herself up for the first man she'd sucked off other than Daddy, really, but he grunted in a way that didn't seem impatient. "Your father tells me you're a miracle worker at bringing him back for one last round, so you might as well demonstrate."

That made her feel more transparent than transparent, and shameful as hell, but in a way that was almost like being proud of herself at the same time. It nerved her up to reach in and take his cock out, at any rate; which _took_ some nerve, especially when she had her hand on it. His wasn't quite as long as Daddy's, but it was fatter. Daddy's, she could just close her hand around; if Lawrence wanted to fuck her throat at _all_ he'd better get a kick out of her struggling, but she had a feeling that was a safe bet. 

Daddy liked her to look up while she sucked him, but she wasn't sure if that would fly with Lawrence's ideas about _form_ ; she kept her eyes on her work and tongue-kissed the head of his cock -- he made a low, wanting, warning kind of sound -- and got to it, using her hand to hopefully distract him from how she could no way take in more than the first few inches or so until she was warmed up a little and done having nerves about it. Maybe he liked that, even, being reminded that he was a lot for a girl like her to handle -- that her longest finger didn't quite meet her thumb around his cock, that she was out and out _drooling_ and making helpless little _ahm mm_ noises and stretching her mouth till her jaw complained over not very much of it at all. 

He was breathing like he liked it, she was pretty sure, and leaking onto her tongue: different than Daddy's, sharper, saltier, a little easier to get hungry for on her very first-ever taste. Even more than the struggle of getting used to him, or the way he was breathing rough but not really making noises, _that_ brought it right home that he was really a stranger to her this way; after all Daddy's cock had been a struggle too, for quite a while. 

"How's she doing?" Daddy said. He sounded so damn _urgent_ \-- Allison's whole body twitched with feeling like she _had_ to go over there and open her legs up for him right now, give him her cunt, let him fill her up and fill her up until it hurt. Thinking about how empty she felt, how wet she must be getting, reminded her how to ease up her jaw and get Lawrence deeper in her mouth; that was one of the tricks, sometimes. 

" _Ah_ \-- you've raised a trouper, I admit it." His voice was rougher, more winded, than she would have imagined, and it made her moan all around him, tilt her weight just slightly forward so she could better feel the heat rising off his body. "And trained her up very nicely on this point."

"You should tell _her_ what she's doing right," Daddy said. "Talk to her. Get a little crude. Easiest to get the best of it that way. She'll run herself out to please you if you only let her know how."

Allison wasn't sure, still, ever, whether or not she hated Daddy a little at times like this, but just then she would have cried and kissed his feet if she'd had the chance. Lawrence laughed, short and cracking in the middle, and stroked her hair again. 

"Is that it?" he said -- back to heavy, not really like he was talking to a person, she did her utmost to say _yes_ by whimpering and sucking him harder, and he grunted. "I see. I hadn't thought I had much to say to you that was fit for your father's ears, even at a time like this -- yes, you're doing nicely enough. You understand if you'd been anyone else's little girl, anyone's at all, I'd have had you choking on my cock the very first evening you made slut's eyes at me. I don't know how _he_ waited."

"With difficulty and constant assistance," Daddy said, sounding like he was laughing, and -- how she'd met Lawrence _so_ soon after the first time she saw Daddy fucking that girl's mouth, how easy he could have buttered her up without her even realizing until he got her alone, if Daddy hadn't been watching, _that_ was a thought. She took her hand off him so she could force herself down until she did choke, and _boy_ , did he have another grip on her hair right away.

"And you _like_ being used as a whore," he said almost thoughtfully; he wasn't quite pushing her head down, but he was holding her right at the point where it hurt to stretch her mouth that wide and she had to keep swallowing if she didn't want to gag. And then he _did_ push, finally made her try to get his cock into her throat, and didn't pull her up until it was obvious as could be that she wasn't getting it on that try. The one after it, either. "Real actresses do. I'm not deluding myself, I've had dozens who couldn't have wanted it less, but the ones who've been worth the film to shoot them on -- _they_ love it."

"Hence, Ellie?" Dad said, _right_ as Lawrence pushed her down again -- he grunted, and she spluttered, and then she _did_ manage to gulp him down a little way and hold it, and the noise he made was pretty close to being a shout. 

" _Don't_ \--" he didn't mean her, she knew it, but it still made her struggle a little from panic she'd somehow done it _wrong_ , "put my mind on the examples. This one doesn't need any help to finish me off. _That's_ more like it --" 

Up, and down again; she thought she might be taking him a little deeper when she got it the second time, impossible to tell with the way her throat was already sore. It made her sort of cough around him, which he seemed to definitely like, but she was _positive_ he didn't hold her down as long. Daddy giving him the sign to ease up, maybe, while she couldn't see it. 

Up, then, far enough that he wasn't really giving her so much trouble; her jaw felt like it had maybe _already_ broken in two, but still she managed to keep her lips closed and suckle and work him with her tongue, and bob her head a little when he slackened up the tiniest bit on her hair. She could feel he had to be close, the way he kept twitching when she got that just right, and she worked in some of the trembly pleading noises that usually did the trick for Daddy when it was taking him forever --

"Christ, you little fucking _bitch_ ," he said perfectly normally, and pulled her up by the hand in her hair, and gripped his cock with his other hand so snaky quick that she barely had time, on instinct, to close her eyes before he groaned and came in hot heavy spurts all over her face. 

She slumped over against his leg, the way she might if it were Daddy who'd just given her a workout like that. He didn't correct her.

"Clean her up," Daddy said eventually. 

"C.T., for the love of God, we've _met_. _That_ will do anything but spoil your fun."

"Postpone the hell out of it if she gets any in her eyes. She's not used to that, I don't do it, and she has to open them sometime. Never mind the rest."

"That's more like it. _Hey_. Yes, you. Chin up." It had to be Lawrence, then -- who else could it be? -- dabbing fussily around her eyes with the corner of a handkerchief; it was just that she didn't expect him to touch anyone that delicately. Over her head again, " _you_ don't need to vandalize a face like this every now and then?" 

" _I_ get my cock sucked dry daily by my teen-age daughter who swallows like she's goddamn grateful. You're asking if I like a change of pace from heaven. Send her over here."

"Right you are." Lawrence nudged her thigh sharply with his foot. She jumped, and opening her eyes took more nerve than she would have imagined; but nothing stung them once she did, and he looked flushed and unwound enough to keep her from minding very much the way she could still feel his come dirtying up her face. It was an interesting new way of feeling used, anyway, and she didn't have to wonder if she'd been good for him -- she'd been a little afraid that she'd have to learn it all from scratch, somehow, if she ever went with a man besides Daddy. "What do you say to the nice man?" 

"Thank you, sir?" she guessed. Her throat was roughed up enough it came out nearly in a croak -- _God_ she hoped he'd be understanding if she completely lost her voice for tomorrow, him having had the better side of her losing it -- but it made him smile, anyway. 

"There's a little lady. Crawl back over to your father."

It took her a second to get her arms and legs straightened out enough to do that even as badly as she had to begin with, but it probably wasn't any harder than standing up would have been; Daddy looked indulgent enough about it, anyway, like she was a newborn kitten who hadn't really learned yet that all her feet should be pointing the same way. 

"Good girl, sweetheart," he said, petted her hair just the instant she was in range. "You did me proud. I imagine you need to come pretty badly, don't you?" 

" _Yes_ , Daddy." It was true, now she had herself moving again and he was touching her -- she could _smell_ him, that hot animal edge to his smell that only came up when he was ready to fuck her through a goddamn wall, and that always did something to her whether or not she already felt wetter and more helplessly needy than she could remember in a long time. 

"Good girl. Strip off, and then you can sit down right on my cock." He got it out himself while she was still fumbling up to her feet, gave it a few idle strokes while she stripped; from how slick and achy-hard he looked she figured she'd have to come _fast_ if she wanted to, but also that it shouldn't be a problem. "Oh, look at that -- no, sweetheart, listen, you turn around and sit facing out. We want your guest to see how pretty you look."

They didn't do that so much, when it was just them. She knew well enough what he was talking about and how to do it, but normally he wanted her looking at him -- it was _strange_ , going to sit backwards, even before she counted the way Lawrence was out and out staring straight at her cunt the minute she had her legs spread out either side of Daddy's lap. It figured, she guessed, that being the center of attention, but it was humiliating when Daddy had the head of his cock pressed against her, and humiliating when she sank down, and _really_ humiliating when she remembered all of a sudden that getting fucked from this direction meant Daddy's cock rubbed right up against all the hot, scary, sensitive places inside her, even better than when he pushed her down flat on her stomach.

She moaned a little, when that hit her all at once, and her back arched. Lawrence was watching her like he wanted to let her go through the whole take before he told her whether or not she had it right, and also like he could come on her face a little more right then and there if she were close enough. Daddy grabbed her hips, hard, and pulled her down as far as he could, all suddenly; he didn't let go when he had her there, either, just _held_ her on it so she was twitching all over and dripping and ready to promise him anything if he'd just let her move -- 

"Why don't you play with your pretty tits while I fuck you," Daddy said against her ear. "Both hands. Leave your cunt alone for now."

That was easy enough in one regard -- her breasts got sensitive enough to be a little tender, so cupping them and playing with her nipples while he made her ride it was the best thing for both sides of that -- and hard in another, with someone watching. She did it, though, pinched herself a little because she figured Lawrence would want to see that even if she wasn't quite warmed up enough yet to love it. He made another of those sticky sounds with his tongue, and Daddy with his hands still on her hips pulled her up nearly all the way off and brought her back down. 

Made her sink down on almost the entire length of his cock, all over again, and she about died when she realized what a view Lawrence had to have of Daddy's cock disappearing inside her; she wondered if it looked as much like a fucked-up magic trick as it still sometimes felt, like there was no _way_ Daddy could really put something big as that inside something the size of her. 

"Fuck," Lawrence said, not sounding unhappy at all; she had to unfocus her eyes a little and sort of stare past his shoulder, if she had to be looking that direction right away, but the whole shape of him looked intent. "I can hear _that_."

"I told you she gets wet over damn near nothing," Daddy said, and bounced her up and down again -- not quite as long, but faster, and only pausing a second before he did it _again_ and started to get her into a rhythm, steering her completely the way he did the very first time he put her on top. "I'd say it had to be her age, only we both know it's not a sure thing that way with girls."

"Hardly," Lawrence said, sounding entertained. "They really are _far_ too complicated to be designed for the use of teen-age boys, aren't they?"

"Christ, I hope you're right." Daddy just _kept_ bouncing her, moving her on his cock in a fast slapping rhythm that was getting deep enough to make her squeal through her sore throat and pinch her nipples every time he jerked her down. He didn't normally do it this way when he had her on top, and she figured maybe the point of it was to show off how small she was and how he could manhandle her and how she was there just as a tight wet thing for him to use on his cock -- that thought had the pinching swelling heat turning on _high_ in her clitoris, anyway, just as much as her hands on her breasts and his cock itself fucking fast and rough up against all the tender mysterious places inside her. Probably she'd be able to come just fine even if he didn't want her to have any more help. 

Both men were getting quiet, though, other than all the heavy breathing and Daddy growling against her ear every time he pulled her down all the way. Lawrence was pulling at his cock again, she saw -- slow enough that he probably wasn't really hard yet, but it made her whimper and pinch herself _sharp_ and kind of writhe back against Daddy's chest to think about him doing it. 

"Good girl," Daddy said, low and gravelly enough to make her clench. "That's right, Allison. Are you getting ready for me?" 

"Uh-huh --" Squeaky and croaky at the same time, she thought, a real winner, but his hands tightened on her hips and she was pretty sure she could hear Lawrence grunt. 

"Attagirl, sweetheart. You can use one hand now to help yourself feel good."

He never needed to tell _her_ twice about that, ever, anymore. Almost before he finished saying it she was sucking the fingers of her right hand to get them nice and wet, sliding them down to rub -- God, she _was_ swollen up -- harder and harder against her clitoris. It was almost impossible to even feel that when she went as fast as Daddy was going with her, but she'd had practice by now enough to find a little syncopation that went right up her spine without pulling her attention in two directions at once --

"If you ever make a vow of celibacy or anything," Lawrence said, _tight_ , his voice like a splash of water on her hot skin when she'd almost narrowed her focus to pretty much cover the span of her hips and nothing else, "old man, I'll take this one off your hands at any terms you fucking well like."

"Some chance," Daddy said, the words kind of jamming up behind his teeth -- between that and the way he was starting to fuck _up_ a little every time he pulled her down, she definitely didn't have much time to come before him and pull him over the way he really liked, but she knew how to manage that. " _Allison_." 

"Uh-huh," not really caring anymore how she sounded, or anyway not caring enough to let it bother her out of slapping her clitoris with her fingertips hard enough to make everything in her entire body _pull_ her tight around his cock, and then doing it again harder, again, again, right in time with him fucking her now. "Uh-huh, yeah, I am, I'm -- oh God, fuck, _Daddy_!" 

She went off the edge so hard it was _completely_ shameful, even right then while it was happening -- shuddering and jerking like someone put the electrodes on her head and didn't bother strapping her down first, making noises meanwhile that an animal would have too much dignity for, and this while she had her legs split out so the man who just came on her _face_ could see it better -- and the shame curved back into the pleasure to wrench it all up higher, so that dimly she knew Daddy was growling against her neck, was shooting into her hard, but she almost couldn't feel it at all for the way her own was rising straight into one of those times that built and built and _built_ up unbearably inside the front of her and then broke like the end of the world. 

She got him _really_ soaked when that happened, always. The first time she'd been scared stiff that she was actually so horribly far out of control that she'd wet herself while he was in her; Daddy must have noticed her cringing a little, then, because he'd laughed and told her it was just her cunt getting overexcited. Just a thing that happened now and then to girls who needed fucking as hard and often she did, when they got wound up as far as they could go. It didn't happen to _her_ so much that she was exactly used to it, but all things considered she was glad for Lawrence to have seen it this one time he had the chance. If Daddy thought it was good she got wound up that far, anyway, easy money that Lawrence might as well. 

Daddy was slumped back in his chair, then, breathing hard, and _she_ was draped back all limp over him with his cock slowly softening up in her and everything beyond-wet dripping down her thighs -- she made to move a little, and he pinched her thigh sharply between his thumb and his middle finger.

"Stay," he said, just winded. "I don't believe we're through with you yet, and I want you right where you are until you get me hard again. Yes?" 

If they'd been alone, she would have tried to plead him into letting her at least turn around -- she _always_ wanted to burrow into him, after, and it was just a little bit of an exercise being spread out and tilted back like this when she wasn't too hot to feel it -- but she could guess how he'd feel about that in front of company.

"'kay, Daddy," she said dreamily, and Daddy made a sharp little noise that wasn't, she realized after a second, pointed at her. 

"No, leave her be for a minute," over her shoulder and all but languid, running his hand up and down along the curve from her hip to her ribcage. "I like her here, and she hasn't exactly been handed around every stag party in LA County, to be right back up and at it after a ride like that. You know you're her very first not counting me?" 

"If I had a penny for every time I've been expected to believe _that_ ," Lawrence said -- mocking, a little, Allison thought, but also like he wanted pretty badly for it to be true right now. 

"Call me a liar or my daughter a slut again, Lawrie," Daddy said, warm but with his voice just rumbling in his chest all against her spine. "See what you don't get. Or I think she'll happily take more when she's pulled herself together, now, won't you, sweetheart?" 

"If you want, Daddy." God, it'd be _better_ if she lost her voice by morning, the way she sounded; it'd at least come back sounding less rusty, but she could feel her cunt twitch lazily at the very idea of them wanting her to take more, even if she couldn't possibly want it badly enough to _breathe_ any more energetically than she could get away with. 

"Christ," Lawrence said, a long way away. "I must put in the effort to sire one for my very own."


	2. Chapter 2

After that, Allison wasn't exactly positive how long she had to stay there, spread and draped back over Daddy's lap and holding his half-soft cock inside her while he petted her sides and her thighs and her breasts. She was _impossibly_ aware of how humid things were down where they were joined, how she'd made her own thighs sticky and soaked his trousers and his come was sliding out of her in hot little trickles around his cock -- she _shivered_ on him for every one, and before too long he started stiffening back up into her when she did -- but the rest of her was almost dozed off a little, hazy enough to be in and out of understanding exactly what was still going on.

"How _is_ it?" Lawrence was saying, one time just after she'd blinked back up into certainty that he was there -- probably it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes. 

"Milk and honey." Daddy tweaked her breast, just slightly, to make her startle and squirm and twist on him a little so he chuckled into her hair. "Cherry pie. She used to resist like hell, didn't you, sweetheart? I don't say defiantly, in her heart she wanted it right off the bat, but from the neck up and the waist down she was goddamn _scandalized_ that her very own father could think of putting something like that inside a good little girl like her."

"I almost can't blame her for it." Lawrence was pulling at his cock again, she thought, or maybe _still_ , from the very slight wet sounds and the way his breathing was going deliberately regular. "Not if you kept her entirely in the dark ahead of time. Although God knows she must have been something."

"She was. And she melted before too long." Daddy kissed the soft spot behind her ear, made her _jump_ and her eyes flip open wide like a doll's so that this time they both laughed a little to see her. "Should I send her over to help you with that?" 

"You should send her over, full stop, end it," Lawrence said. 

"Hear that, sweetheart?" Daddy nosed into her hair again, kissed her neck in that way that always made her shiver and start to feel empty -- she wasn't empty now, anything but, she still felt it all the same. "You did so well, he needs you back. I'm afraid there's one more set before we can send you off to rest. Think you're up to it?"

"I _think_ ," Allison said. It came out high and tremulous and little-girlish, and she expected both men to laugh again. That wasn't what happened -- Daddy huffed against her neck and Lawrence crooked his fingers to beckon her over, and _boy_ did that gesture look different these days. 

Her knees were so somehow wobbly and stiff at the same time, and it was so tricky just getting up from Daddy's lap -- her leverage was hard to find at that angle, and he might not have been hard enough to have fucked her again, but he was hard enough for her to _feel_ it when she rose up off his cock -- that Lawrence tsked his tongue a little frustratedly when he saw her hesitating to get down on all fours.

"All right," he said, "you may walk it this once," sounding like she was on his _very_ last nerve and he was finding something to like about it anyway. The pit of her stomach wanted her to realize, in that cool light-headed way that happened sometimes, that she never, ever wanted to belong to him enough that he could pull her up for mistakes: so Daddy spanked her and came on her back when she was rude and then he didn't let _her_ come for a while, that was nothing. At least she had to _be_ rude deliberately and right to his face before he did it, and he liked it much better when she co-operated instead. He didn't so much care about all the little ways that she could miss toeing the line, as long as she wanted to be sweet with him. 

"Thank you, sir." She walked it anyway, trembly and swaying the few steps on the balls of her feet until she could stand in front of him with her eyes lowered. Daddy's come was running down the inside of her leg like no one's business, and she wanted to ask permission to clean up a little -- _that_ almost always started feeling more shameful than good once it was well and truly out of her cunt, even with no one to see it at all -- but there was just no _way_. "Where would you like me now, sir?" 

" _Now_ you may get on your hands and knees," he said, and -- all right, she'd done this before even if it wasn't so often, even when she was a tiny bit achy still, it was more the way she _knew_ even ahead of time that he was about to add something like, "and show me a good clear view of your cunt."

She wouldn't have really minded showing it off to him earlier, was the thing, not _really_ , it was just that -- she knew Daddy liked to get a good look at her all stretched out and used, that made some kind of sense to her, but she felt uneasy and almost like crying about Lawrence looking straight at her the same way, when he hadn't even done it. It was worse, or at least it was _more_ , than showing him any part of her normally, or than sucking his cock, or than just letting him fuck her would have been.

"Good God," Lawrence murmured, and Daddy laughed, and Allison thought about dropping to knees and elbows just so she could grind her flushed face into the rug. "She can take it, can't she?" 

"You saw it happen," Daddy pointed out, and the chair behind her creaked with Lawrence getting to his feet. "Hell, you had her mouth. She's a very obliging thing when she knows it's wanted."

"I'll say _so_." Lawrence pushed two fingers right into her from behind, in past the knuckles just like that, and Allison _squealed_ \-- she hadn't been braced for it at all, hadn't even really felt how close he was, and then she was swollen already and a little bruised up from Daddy fucking her and those fingers felt much bigger than she was pretty sure they were, really. "Christ. Clench on them."

He barely had to tell her at all -- his fingertips right then brushed up against something much too tender, and she locked up like a vise, and he made a hard pleased little sound and started rubbing in and out of her. "Very nice. Tell me how you feel about getting your cunt fucked again."

"Go ahead and answer," Daddy said, and Allison sobbed and squeezed on Lawrence's fingers and _made_ herself keep her elbows straight, while she wondered if there was any way to avoid being honest. 

"Embarrassed," she mumbled, when she understood there wasn't. "Ashamed, I guess. Sir."

"Because it's been had once already?" He sounded so almost businesslike, standing over her and pushing his fingers against the raw soft places inside of her, that she whimpered the first two or three times she tried to say _yes, sir_. She was pretty certain he had the gist anyway. "You _are_ filthy, but God knows I can live with that. It adds in some ways to the appeal. You don't see it?" 

"No, sir," she managed, and she could just about feel him smile.

"In time, then. I'll leave it to your father to run through any remaining facts of life. You're whore enough, aren't you, to love it even if you don't understand?" 

"Yes, sir," Allison said, after a long minute -- it made something in her head feel like falling off a cliff, the way she did in dreams where she just _kept_ falling forever and the ground was nowhere in sight, and at the same instant her cunt tried _hard_ to milk his fingers like they were a cock themselves. 

"Yes, sir, what?" he said, and she _wanted_ to glance over to see how Daddy was taking this, but she couldn't, and he wasn't making a sound -- that figured, she supposed, he sure as hell wasn't above saying it himself. 

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, and at least he didn't ask her to speak up. "I'm a whore. I can love it. Sir."

It was true, anyway, she knew that much. If she hadn't wanted so bad to be famous, if she hadn't wanted _Daddy_ , she could have just kept her mouth shut and her knees together that first time and he would have found some other girl who kind of looked like her. He'd told her he would unless she came across, hadn't he? He'd practically invited her to walk away and there she'd stayed, here she was, wide open and begging for it.

"There's a darling," he said, and took his fingers away, and she could feel herself split open all over again and leaking come with him _staring_ into her. "There's a clever little lady."

"Hold it one second," Daddy said, downright pleasantly, and stood up from his chair himself. Allison didn't know what she expected him to do -- it wasn't, somehow, to come around the other side of her, with his trousers still open and his cock jutting out. _Plenty_ hard, again, and almost as messy with both of them as she was. It made her cunt squeeze, just seeing that; she was dying to hide her face against the floor, and she couldn't. There just _was_ no looking away anymore from Daddy's cock, even if he didn't get pretty impatient most often when she tried. "How's your throat, sweetheart?" 

"You _bastard_ ," Lawrence murmured, sounding impressed. 

"Pretty sore, Daddy." She didn't have to play up the creaky sound at all -- she'd lost track of it a little with everything going on around her cunt, but her throat didn't truth be told feel that much better. She couldn't say anything else, even if she didn't have the dizzy-scared feeling all over again: like he couldn't _possibly_ be trying for what she thought, except for how he always was. 

"Oh, I bet." He reached down and stroked her hair; tucking a sweat-damp lock behind her ear, where it fell back down immediately. Already she didn't want anything in the world more than she wanted a hot bath, but she pressed her cheek into his palm regardless. "I bet. You took it good and hard earlier. I was very proud of you, giving your director your mouth so nicely. But you see you've left your work unfinished here, don't you?" 

_That_ was just purely unfair, she knew it, she could tell Daddy knew it, he'd all but _lifted_ her off his cock himself to send her over here -- but she was spread open and dripping and dying of shame and never mind her head her _nerves_ were swimming, and there was really nothing to say to it but "yes, Daddy."

"Now I know he was rough with you. I know he's about to be rough with you again, so I don't think it would be very reasonable of me to expect accommodation in your cunt a second time after we've each had a turn." He hummed under his breath, and she was pretty sure she could _feel_ Lawrence snarl. "Can you be a good enough girl to take care of this for me while Lawrence fucks you, if I'm considerate with that pretty mouth? It's only that I don't know how considerate I could be if I had to wait for it until I'd watched you get fucked hands and knees by a good friend of mine. You understand."

"I guess I can try," she said, just -- numb, dizzy all over, and he stroked her cheek.

"Good girl. Here's how we'll do." He closed his fist around his cock, left just the first few inches bare, guided it down to her lips -- "You don't have to take more than that until you're good and ready. Yes? Just keep kissing my hand. Try it now so that you don't hold us up any longer."

It _was_ easy like that, almost too easy to understand -- he was sticky with both of them, bitter and salty and musky-sweet, but that was familiar and she was so used to Daddy fucking her mouth right away, ever since the first time, it was almost like an insult to have him now measuring off how far she could go. Her throat was sore as hell, but that hadn't killed her yet, and then Lawrence cursed and grabbed at her hips and pushed _his_ cock inside her, hard as he could but not fast enough to numb her, and she was pretty certain having Daddy hit her throat at the same time _would_ have killed her. It felt like a fifty-fifty shot that just keeping her head up was going to kill her, never mind what for. 

_God_. He _was_ thick, she was pretty intimately familiar with that already, and he felt thicker -- if she hadn't gotten so wet before, and if some of Daddy's come hadn't still been inside her, it might've felt like being ripped open the first time all over again. As it was it just burned, him reshaping her a little to fit, it wasn't even close to really good yet but she could feel her cunt squeezing him and her clitoris starting to get right to attention just from her understanding what was going on --

Daddy pulled at a lock of her hair, just slightly, and without being any less aware of Lawrence inside her she came back to knowing that the head of _his_ cock was still between her lips and she wasn't so much sucking as sort of… mouthing at it and whimpering and drooling. 

"Okay, sweetheart," he said, sounding mostly amused and like he was that close to shoving the whole thing inside her anywhere it could go. "You took that like a pro. That's my best girl, all right. _Suck my cock_." 

That wasn't as tough as she'd have thought, once she had it straight which end of her was which. Lawrence was just _reaming_ her, stretching her out, hands on her hips to hitch her up at the angle he wanted -- she wasn't sure whether or _not_ she'd have liked the chance to keep her undivided attention on getting fucked for the first time by someone other then Daddy, but at least he wasn't going fast, and after a second she caught his rhythm and used it to bob her head up and down on Daddy's cock. He groaned, and he was leaking a little fresh slick already, and she had enough of her own control to pull up and lap at the head the way he liked when he wanted her to fuss over him before he got down to things. 

"Jesus Christ," Daddy said, winded -- over her back again, she could tell. "Don't I have fantastic ideas?" 

Lawrence made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snarl, and tugged her onto his cock until she could _feel_ that he'd be bumping up against her diaphragm if he tried to go farther. He didn't, just nudged her forward and then did it again, pulled back by the hips so she had to strain her neck out a little to suck Daddy's cock the way he wanted; Daddy didn't try to get her back right away, maybe he liked watching her struggle to do it.

"You have a fantastic daughter." Lawrence let her go, slapped her thigh hard enough to _really_ hurt -- she sort of yelped around Daddy's cock, and he groaned and tugged her hair until she was sucking him again. "I'd imagine that takes care of the inspiration. Christ, will you _look_ at her."

He was still going deep and hard, starting to find the angle that worked her up as well and made her clutch hardest around him, and there was some crazy kind of bowstring tension to him that gave Allison the feeling that what he'd really like, what would do it for him almost right away, would be to bend her over something solid and just go _after_ her. Fuck her right into his desk, maybe. She guessed she'd find out sooner than later whether he'd get a chance for that; Daddy had made it sound like this was a strictly limited engagement, but Daddy moved the markers around a lot sometimes. 

"I do," he was saying, ruffling her hair, petting her cheek while she sucked him. "Every goddamn day. What do you say, sweetheart, you about ready to lose the training wheels?" 

_Wait_ , she wanted to say, _wait, not yet, don't_ , but all she could really do about _anything_ was mewl and squirm a little between them and just on instinct make sure to get a good breath before he took his hand away from his cock and then pushed her head down with it. 

He still wasn't taking it hard, she could tell, not really, no matter if it felt that way with her poor throat already roughed up and Lawrence stretching out her cunt now as well. He was just holding her in place so she wouldn't try and get away when none of them really wanted her to, he wasn't even trying very seriously to make her get him _down_ her throat, he was just making sure she knew he always had it his way -- God, that rolled all through her like a wave, and like a wave when the last of it hit she caught herself curling her hips up as far as she really could and rocking herself back on Lawrence's cock. 

As far as she was able to, anyway, which wasn't awfully, but it made him snarl and her whine with her mouth still full up. She was starting to get a feeling how this worked, her getting push-pulled between them and fucked from both ends. It was like Daddy always wanting her to be clear that she was there on account of what she did to him, that she made him so hard and he had to do so much for her that the least _she_ could do was help him come in her whenever he needed it, that was just the fair way to do things, it was like that only _squared_ , her just being for them both to use --

"You're all right," Daddy said, low, hoarse, forcing her head down until he _was_ fucking right up to the opening of her throat, making her body shake and try to struggle while she coughed. "You're all right. You know you can take it. Like I've taught you, Allison, good girl, get it down."

\-- until her eyes watered, she was pretty sure this time that she was crying a little, but it was that same thing as ever where simply no way could there be room in her for him, until there was. Both ends were going to feel it like hell for days, she knew it, but sore as she already was she almost _thrashed_ in between them when she did manage to get Daddy's cock right in through the ache and past every single reflex that always screamed anyway about how nothing like that belonged in her. 

" _Fucking_ Christ," Lawrence said, awed and rough somewhere pretty far away. "She's going insane."

Daddy chuckled, and ruffled her hair, and let her up for a sip of breath before he went for her throat again. "I wondered if she might. Don't give her any help -- sweetheart, if you want to come, you'll have to get there like a big girl from being fucked. Think you can do it?" 

Neither of them waited for an answer, really. She thought Lawrence might have paused just a little, but not long enough for her to figure out _how_ to answer, let alone what it would be. She didn't really have the first idea; Daddy _always_ helped her, or really more often he let her help herself the way she had earlier. Lawrence fucking her was beginning to feel good enough that there would have been no doubt at all if she could have taken her weight off one hand even for a minute, but as it was -- well, so what if she didn't this once, Allison thought, so what, it wouldn't be the end of the world, she could maybe even take care of it herself in the bathtub later if she wasn't too sore already by then. She was supposed to be making it good for them, not the other way around, so what did it even matter if she wanted to cry for real at the idea of being fucked like this and used like this and left with the fuzzy end of the lollipop. 

It _was_ beginning to feel incredible, anyway, that was something, now her body had figured out that it was seeing this through like it or not. She hadn't felt filled up like this, like she couldn't possibly have anything inside her _except_ cock, since the first few times, and she hadn't liked it so much then. She wasn't sure in her heart whether she liked it so much now, but Daddy fucking her mouth never failed at getting her hot, and Lawrence was figuring out this trick of correcting the angle of her hips just a little without really pulling her back -- Daddy didn't do that when he bent her over, but then he wasn't as perfectionist generally. It had him rubbing up against all the good-achy places inside her, anyway, making her knees shake, and the first time she really moaned for it, Daddy cursed and shoved her down again and _held_ her there until she was seeing grey spots a little and right on the very very edge of panicking. 

She hadn't had a chance to realize, before, how him doing _that_ while she got fucked would make everything between her cunt and her ribcage start to tense and tremble and light up like a carnival after sundown. He had to let her up before it really started building, and part of her almost regretted it, but the feeling didn't fade all the way back down -- maybe, maybe, maybe if she thought about it hard, really thought about it, like what if this wasn't _it_ , what if maybe Lawrence was being this fussy about getting the hang of her because he was going to have the chance again. Like maybe from here on out he could just snap his fingers right on the set, if he wanted, and she'd have to crawl over and get fucked right in front of everyone else and the cameras, even, maybe someone would be rolling the entire time so that Daddy could watch her take it later on while she sucked him, round and round and back and forth and she'd just never be clean again --

She started to come, shaking and ragged and outright _painful_ every time her cunt clenched, at almost the same time Daddy laughed and pulled her up just far enough so that he could shoot off onto her tongue and make her work to swallow it down. It felt different, better, worse, than when she usually did for herself -- like someone was doing something nasty and sharp-hot and delicious to her clitoris from the inside out, somehow, almost like she could let go and come all messy all over Lawrence's cock as well or else wet herself for real this time, except right before she could find out which he broke rhythm and groaned and came in her too, just like that. 

It seemed like a long time before he was finished. She wondered, a little dazed, whether there was as much of it as when he'd come on her face, and her cunt twitched her into a weak little hiccup of a last climax at the thought -- impossible to tell, anyway, she'd been messed up but _good_ already from Daddy, and she was starting to get a little stunned and bruise-dulled from the hips on out. Daddy wasn't in her mouth anymore, wasn't holding her head up, and when Lawrence pulled out and let go her hips he didn't bother to stop her crumpling onto the floor. She rolled herself onto her side -- God, the _rug_ , she must be leaking all over it, she really never wanted to know what the hell Maria _thought_ when she came in to clean every morning -- and hugged her knees and watched them come and go out of her line of sight. 

It was something, only being able to see either of them from the trouser-cuffs down and only when one of them walked right in front of her. She thought she'd seen something like it in a movie, to show that some heroine was hiding under the bed from some murderer she maybe wouldn't be able to identify later, but she couldn't think of which one or who'd bother  
setting up a shot like that. Maybe it was just that she didn't quite feel like this could be really happening to her.

She thought she'd long since gotten over feeling that way, after, but it _was_ her first time with anyone but Daddy; that was almost like a whole other virginity she'd still had left to lose, and even he wouldn't have been able to do her that hard and fast four times in one night. It was a lot for her to get used to, that was all. 

She might have dozed off again a little, still thinking that, or maybe she was more dead to the world than she'd thought. The next thing she really noticed, Daddy was scooping her up in his arms like he was about to carry her over the threshold -- really _Gone with the Wind_ of him, and also like when she used to fall asleep in the car on the way home. She wanted to ask him if he'd ever thought about how much alike those two things were, when you did think about it, but her throat was just killing her and she wasn't sure it would make as much sense even to her if she were awake. 

Whatever had happened in the meanwhile, he'd had time to draw a hot bath for her, and she _did_ start crying -- in her sleep, almost -- when she realized as he was lowering her into it. 

"Too hot?" he said, and laughed softly when she shook her head. It _was_ , but that was perfect. "Just wore yourself out, then? I'll say. I think you feel it a goddamn sight more than the average party girl. Lawrie wasn't wrong at all -- there's something pretty far out of the ordinary in the way you just cry out to be used."

She wanted to ask if Lawrence was going to get a chance to use her again, but her throat was killing her even worse now she was awake, and she couldn't figure out anyway how to string the words together. "Do I go in tomorrow?" was about as far as she could manage, and he shook his head. 

"We spoke. You were off in your own world ever so slightly. He can schedule a day or so without you while you're prostrated with la grippe, and I'll take it nice and easy on you tomorrow as well." He hesitated for a moment, crouched down by the tub like any minute he was going to start washing her hair or something like that. "I want you to remember, Allison, that you did me very proud tonight. Handled yourself like a real little woman. Will you?" 

"Sure, Daddy," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same deal as before: tell me you liked it and I'll tell you something else I have in mind for these characters.


End file.
